The last eleven chapters of this novel that takes place in a world of cloisters and philosophy.
s how to be silent, as one who has taken a vow for that purpose. Why should we need to know, how he fared in battle!"
This cutting speech, deeply wounded the serious-minded man. A jest at the wrong moment, falls like vinegar on honey-dew. Silently he walked out to fetch Sir Burkhard's sword, and drawing it out of the scabbard, he laid it on the table before the Duchess. Fresh, red spots were still glistening on the noble blade, and the edge showed many a new notch, here and there. "Whether the schoolmaster was idle all the time, this sword may bear witness! I have not made my tongue the herald of my deeds!"
The Duchess was startled. She still bore him a grudge in her heart, and she was sorely tempted, to give it vent, in an angry outburst. But the sword of Sir Burkhard called up manifold thoughts. So, restraining her passion, she held out her hand to Ekkehard. "I did not wish to offend you," said she.
The mildness of her voice was like a reproach to him, and he hesitated to take